As soon as I claimed/
creativity left me,/
the floodgates opened.

Sad words surge from my/
thumb this Valentines Day. I’d/
hoped for better muse.

She laid so gently/
in my arms,/
so lightly/
on my soul,/
so tenderly/
on my skin,/
so beautifully/
before my eyes./

She stepped so heavily/
on my heart.

Miles separates us./
She’s in Davis County, but/
thinks I want to dance.

This is one of those/
romantic days you hope for,/
and it is garbage.

She requests nothing,/
so the Valentine she gets/
is heartache’s silence.

Her silence/
says she/
again went/
and fell for it./

She does every time./
I can only hope,/
4 her sake,/
this one is different./

Nope./
I won’t.
She likes/
persistence.

Happy Valentines/Day,
if I’m still invited/
to be yours truly.

Happy Valentines/
Day! No creativity/
to send. I’m too tired.

U read/
my poetry,/
and ask: ‘Who is this she?/
This muse inspiring words/
of rhyme’d wisdom,/
truth felt and heard,/
that come/
rising from/
a soul true?’/
She is U.